


I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Stucky - Freeform, and sam wilson because hes my sarcastic sassy little fluffy bunny, and well...stevebucky, because i'm not good at battle scenes, includes the ant man end credit scene, recovering bucky, stand alone fic, steve visits older peggy, writing my own post Winter Soldier ending here sans civil war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4480097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers broke rules for no one and the only reason he'd even ran when Sam met him was for exercise. He wasn't one to back down from a fight yet he had and when they'd lived as fugitives he'd never stopped to consider an alternative. For him Bucky was the end all. He looked at Bucky Barnes like he was the only person in the world. And once Steve had confided in him [Sam] long before they'd found Bucky. </p><p>He'd shared with him the agonizing pain of losing him and how he hadn't wanted to go on living after - how he'd flown a plane straight into icy waters and hadn't a shred of regret, told him about promising Peggy a date that they'd never have and how it still hurt that he'd left her like that, told him about the future he'd dreamed up that had always always included Bucky. He'd called Bucky his best friend and in that moment Sam knew - Steve was in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give

**Losing Bucky**

Drinking is never an acceptable way of coping with grief and no one knows this more than Steve Rogers. There's something to be said about finding out you can't get drunk immediately after watching your best friend plummet to his death. The look of sheer terror in Bucky's eyes is forever engraved in his mind, replaying over and over until he longs to scratch and claw the memory away. In that moment the only thing that had kept him grounded to the train door was the thought of avenging Bucky's death even as he would've rather have died with him. So much for _till the end of the line_. Turns out it doesn't work out too well when one goes before the other.  His chest is so heavy he can hardly breathe and he might as well be drinking tap water but he continues to toss the liquor back as it burns his throat on the way down.

The howling commandos had made it back safely (aside from the one who mattered the most) and offered to listen if he needed to talk, a shoulder if he felt like crying and showered him with calming reassurements. "It wasn't your fault", "He would've did the same for you," "He chose to follow you." They had tried, he couldn't blame them for trying but in the end he'd gathered an entire bottle of hard liquor and retreated to the shambles of what once was a flourishing bar. Peggy had found him and told him that Bucky must've thought he was worth it and he wished he could believe that. In lieu of his stoic silence she'd kissed him on the cheek and returned to the base. When he was alone he let himself fall to pieces, chest heaving in and out as he slumped over the table and cried harder than he had in years. He hadn't felt such pain since he'd buried the last of his family - his mother and Bucky had been by his side. He'd offered to spend the night and it had felt rather formal given that they shared an apartment. In the end Steve had holed up in the apartment by himself and Bucky had stayed with a friend. He still felt like a jerk for that - for turning Bucky away when all he'd wanted was to comfort him and make him smile.

The following night (after sleeping a grand total of three hours and waking after dreaming of Bucky as his body appeared smaller and smaller as he fell) Steve found himself making a grave decision. It was never a question as to whether he would put his life on the line to save countless other lives but now it seemed appropriate. He couldn't bare to live in a world where he'd failed to protect his best friend - the only person in the world who had always been by his side, who had followed him back into the very bowels of hell without a second thought.

"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water," he said frantically. Peggy had saw where things were going and had taken the other line as quickly as she could. It hurt to let her go and in another life he would've happily put his ring on her finger, a life that involved a living and breathing Bucky Barnes. Somehow none of it seemed worth it without him.

"Please don't do this, we have time," she pleaded with tears in her voice.

"If I don't do this innocent people will die," he replied as he watched the first rays of sunshine come upon the horizon. What an ironic way to go - dying just as the sun begins to live. _He would want me to live - to marry Peggy and settle into a calm life that I'd never need rescuing from. Maybe have a couple kids and a dog named Joe, a white picket fence and a flower garden of tulips and geraniums. Take her out dancing on the weekends and name their first kid after him. Sorry Bucky...I just can't._

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."

Peggy sobbed on the other end. "A week next Saturday then at the Stork club."

"You've got it."

"And don't be late," she said.  The words echoed in his head _. Time to put away the sketch pad, Stevie. We're gonna go see The Wizard of Oz, I even got us some dates. Don't wanna be late._ The smallest things made him remember mundane conversations - fragments of the not so distant past.

"Still don't know how to dance," he chided as he watched the clouds part and caps of ice come into view.

"I'll show you how," Peggy sniffled on the other end.

"We'll have the band play something slow so I don't step on your-," his voice broke off as the plane crashed into solid ice. It filled his lungs and pushed him under and he didn't have the strength to fight. He closed his eyes and thought of Peggy, of Bucky. The two of them laughing at his pathetic attempts to dance. _It's a date..._

 

**Conversations with Peggy  
**

The next thing he remembered was waking in a hospital room with a baseball game playing on the radio at his side. He'd been at that game - Bucky had insisted on dragging him along even though sports were never his thing. His head had been fuzzy - vague memories of Peggy in her red dress...a promise to dance with her. Bucky in his navy blue uniform...his fingers slipping as he... _oh god. oh god, oh god, oh god._

It hadn't taken long for him to figure out that something had gone terribly wrong.

For three years afterward he buried himself in a war that he had no place in, found comfort in strangers that knew all about him. In his spare time he put old (they weren't really all that old to him) records on the player and sketched: Peggy's face as she smiled at him before pressing a kiss to his lips as he dashed off to take on Hydra, Bucky in the alley in his freshly ironed uniform before everything fell apart, an outline of their old apartment in Brooklyn, a quick sketch of his mother before she passed and Bucky again but younger this time - standing in front of Steve's house with three missing teeth (his adult teeth hadn't grown in yet and he looked quite comical) holding a baseball. He drew until his fingers cramped and ached then carefully tucked them away. Some things were too private to share.

He'd visited Peggy in the hospital - her hair now a soft white as it fanned out on the pillow behind her. She was a widow now, had married one of the Howling Commandos and they'd had two beautiful children. Her memories were fading but she hadn't forgotten Steve's face. He would always wonder what their life might have been life if things were different but he at least had the comfort of knowing that she'd moved on and lived a full life.

"I'm starting to forget the sound of his voice," he'd told her as he held a wrinkled hand in his own. Her skin was thin and pale under his fingers - a stark contrast to the youthful appearance of his own.

"You'll remember. He was a good man, Steve. We can't go back to the past - all we can do is make use of what we have now," she'd smiled then and patted his hand. In less than five minutes she'd forgotten he was even there. It pained him to see her like this.

He'd left her with a promise to visit more often and told himself he'd make sure not to break it - he owed her that much. In the years after that moment he'd dropped by every two weeks without fail, had brought her white lillies for the windowsill. Some days were better than others - some days she would tell him about her life after his death vs other days when she only remembered his face. 

 

**Who the Hell is Bucky**

Two years and too many battles fought later he sat in a near empty apartment that had never felt like home. In the hours in between saving the world and sleeping he would lie in the dark until his mind nearly consumed itself or he'd make his way to a private gym that Tony had connections with. He'd swing at the punching bag until his knuckles were red and raw, until the sun came up. Like it or not this was his life now - gym, saving the world, visiting Peggy, the occasional dinner party at Tony's and more visits to the Smithsonian than he had any reason to justify.

In nearly an instant it had all turned on its head. He heard Natasha's words reverberating in his head _'The guy might as well be a ghost, those who have saw him call him the Winter Soldier. He works for Hydra and he's our new mission'_ as he stared back at none other than Bucky Barnes who looked at him as nothing more than a target. He was a ghost alright - a particularly stubborn one that had been haunting Steve since he'd screamed his name as he came out of the ice.

"Your name...is James Buchanan Barnes...you're my best friend. We've known one another our whole lives," he nearly sobbed as he said the words. The man standing in front of him had broader shoulders, more scruff than Steve was used to seeing, long brown hair that kept falling into blue eyes that Steve could never forget. He was in there somewhere.

"NO I'M NOT! SHUT UP!," Bucky roared as he sprang at Steve. They'd replaced his left arm with a weapon - had erased his entire identity and yet...

"I won't fight you, you're my friend," Steve dropped his shield through the opening in the hellicarrier as his vision blurred with tears.

He felt the tang of blood on his tongue and his face ached as Bucky punched him once, twice, three times and he lost count.

"If you really don't remember me then finish it 'cause I'm with you till the end of the line," he choked out in one last bid to make Bucky remember. _"I'm with you till the end of the line Pal"  Bucky in his best suit, his hand on Steve's shoulder, an offer to spend the night._

Bucky had pulled back then, bright blue eyes wild with realization and horror. 

 

The last thing Steve remembered was falling and it felt like poetic justice - like they'd suddenly switched places and his number was finally up.

 

Bright lights, the smell of latex and antiseptic, music coming from somewhere, an I.V. in his right hand and Sam at his side. He'd survived. Why? How?

"To your left," he said with a grin as Sam raised his head.

"He lives!," Sam teased as he paused the music.

"I told you I'd get around to listening to that song," Steve said with a laugh.

"Yeah well you shouldn't have waited until you nearly died to listen to it. It's not _that_ bad," Sam sat back down at his side and crossed one leg over the other.

"I never said you had good taste in music."

"Keep talkin' big man, we'll see who has the best music. I'm not the one who still listens to Bing Crosby," Sam said with a smirk.

"Hey now - don't insult Crosby or I'll have to get the nurses to throw you out," Steve replied with a laugh.

Sam shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"You remember how you got here?," he questioned with a frown.

"Not really. The last thing I remember was falling...and Bucky. He looked right at me like he didn't even know me," Steve said as he bunched his hands into the covers.

"We found you on the shore, haven't found your shield though. Sorry 'bout that. You were unconscious - there's no way you made it to dry land on your own," Sam furrowed his brow and sighed.

"Do you think...," Steve trailed off. No. He wouldn't allow himself to even entertain the thought. Any trace that remained of Bucky Barnes had been wiped out and replaced with the winter soldier a long time ago.

"Man I don't know. I'm just glad you're still with us," Sam gave him a small smile and patted his arm.

Steve hadn't slept that night - had stayed up until the morning light as he turned questions and scenerios over and over in his head. _Why did he save me?_

 

****'Till the End of the Line** **

Two more years passed and the days blurred one into the next. His shield had been recovered but Bucky hadn't been found. Steve hadn't given up hope on finding him just yet and with the help of Sam they'd followed one cold trail to the next. Bucky was like a ghost yet he left bits and pieces behind - enough to go on. Enough to catch the attention of the United States government who wanted to register him and lock him away. Sam had never questioned Steve's search and rescue plan - had joined him without question. Too many plane rides and hiding in plain sight later they had finally narrowed it down to two locations. The other had been a complete bust.

They'd split up then as they cased the perimeters. Each room was solid concrete from top to bottom and had seen better days. Exposed wires and coils hung from spaces where a wall once was and the overhead lights flickered, each room had an opening where a door should be but was an empty space instead.

"All clear in the far back room to the left!," Steve called out as he rounded the corner to the next room.

He forgot to breathe, to function and his knees had nearly given out underneath of him. _Bucky._

Shoulder length brown hair stuck to his neck and fell over his eyes, his entire body seemed to scream _I surrender._

Haunting blue eyes met Steve's as he mouthed "Help me". Steve remained frozen in place until Sam rushed into the room.

"Cap!," he called as he took in the sight.

"Should we contact Tony for help?," Steve asked as he pinned Bucky with his eyes.

"He wouldn't believe us," Sam replied as he turned his back to Bucky.

"Even if he wanted to help us the accord wouldn't let him," Steve clenched his jaw and looked away.

"What should we do?," Sam questioned.

"Help me get him out of this," Steve demanded as he examined the machine that held Bucky's metal arm in its grip.

"I have some screwdrivers and a drill in the car. I'll go get them," Sam said as he made his way to the vehicle. He was always prepared and teased Steve for bringing nothing more than the shirt on his back and the shield they'd hidden in the trunk.

He returned and set to work on loosening bolts and heavy chunks of metal as they fell to the ground.

 

Bucky hadn't budged - had glanced up at Steve every so often with a look of pain in his eyes. It was all Steve could do to not look away. He knew he should ask how he was, had he eaten, who did this to him, where did they go, what did they look like? He'd kill them all, but he couldn't get the words to form.

"That's the last one," Sam said as the final piece landed on the floor with a resounding _thunk._

Bucky rubbed his arm and promptly covered it with his sleeve, hugged it to his chest.

"Bucky? Are you okay? Do you know who you are?," Sam kneeled down in front of Bucky and spoke softly. 

Bucky struggled for a moment and squeezed his eyes closed then made a sobbing noise.

Sam stood back up and eyed Steve with concern. He'd worked with former soldiers that battled invisible wars in their sleep, who couldn't escape the horrors they'd saw even when waking. Bucky Barnes was a man who had saw more than he ever should have. Steve nodded in response - there was no need for words.

"We're going to get you out of here Bucky," Steve said as he finally found his voice.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"James Buchanan Barnes," Bucky whispered as he put his head in his hands.

"Do you know who I am?," Steve had to know the answer even if Bucky had no idea who he was.

"Steve," Bucky said with a small broken voice.

Steve smiled then and met Sam's eyes. He was still in there - they would find him.

 

**Running from the past but it keeps finding me**

They had been in hiding for 6 months after finding Bucky and it hadn't been an easy life. They'd hopped from one cheap hotel room to the next under false names "Really Steve? Mr. Rogers is too obvious, are you trying to get us caught?," Sam had laughed at him and filled him in on a certain Mr. Rogers that he'd watched on television as a child. Steve wasn't even close to being that guy. They'd gone with a common surname then - Mr. Jones.

It was midnight in another two star hotel with flimsy beds and drippy faucets when Bucky slept more than three hours for the first time since they'd rescued him.

"You think he's gonna be alright?," Steve asked worriedly as he sat at a poor excuse for a table with Sam across from him.

Bucky was passed out on top of the covers, body stiff and on guard even in his sleep. His hair tangled around his face and his black pants had saw better days. Between the three of them they had maybe a weeks worth of clothes. He wore a solid black t-shirt that hugged muscles that Steve wasn't familiar with (unless those steely arms forcing the air out of your lungs counted in which case yes he remembered that feeling) and still had his shoes on as if he were ready to bolt at a moments notice. 

"It's going to take some time," Sam sighed as he flipped through a box of playing cards that he'd bought the last time he'd ventured into a store to stock up on snacks and bottled drinks.

Bucky tossed and turned in his sleep and groaned.

"Go on to bed, I'll keep watch," Steve said to Sam. Neither of them had slept much since finding Bucky and Steve was used to existing on little sleep. Sam, on the other hand, looked weary.

"You sure? I don't mind taking tonight if-," Sam began

"I'm fine," Steve interrupted.

"If you insist," Sam mumbled as he flopped onto the bed opposite of Bucky.

 

Every night they would alternate watching him in case he had another nightmare or tried to escape. He wasn't a hostage, never had been but Steve couldn't let him go. If the newly reformed SHIELD were to find him...

Bucky slept for at least five hours before bolting upright with a scream and frantic eyes as they darted around the room.

Steve didn't move from his place at the table - it was best to let him come to his senses and realize where he was. Touching him only made it worse. Steve had learned that the hard way when he'd ended up with a serrated blade to his throat before Bucky came to and was horrified at what he'd nearly done.

"Steve?! Don't let them catch you," Bucky cried frantically. Somewhere in his mind they were back at Hydra with Schmidt closing in on Steve and all he could do was cling to the railing and watch. Steve...the chair...pain... _they're going to hurt Steve_

His lungs felt like they were filling with ash and he struggled to catch a breath as he heard a voice in the distance.

"Bucky. It's me - Steve. I'm okay they didn't get me," Steve moved to the edge of the bed - just close enough to meet Bucky's eyes.

_Steve, the fire...screaming with every ounce of strength left...'NOT WITHOUT YOU!'_

"You're safe. We're okay Buck," Steve repeated the words as if they were a lullaby.

_drinking alone in the bar...is that me?  Steve's uniform, stale cigarettes, his smile. feeling safe but hollow on the inside like something special had been ripped away. what was it? what did I lose?_

Sam sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes as Steve motioned for him to go back to sleep. Didn't have to tell him twice.

"Bucky...," Steve called gently.

_the woman in the red dress - shes going to take Steve dancing. he can't see me, why can't he see me?  I tell him I might as well be invisible and he laughs. it hurts._

"You're at a hotel with Sam and I, you remember him don't you?," Steve realized he was talking mostly to himself but he didn't want to give up. Bucky had curled into a tight ball in the middle of the bed and held onto the covers for dear life. Nights like this made him feel more alone than ever. Bucky was physically present but sometimes his mind took him on a ride that he couldn't get off of.

 _the Potomac, pulling Steve out of the water...is he breathing? please be okay. he's spitting water - that's a good sign. go. go before they find you. fight the urge to stay with him, vaguely remember the words he said_ 'Finish it 'cause I'm with you 'till the end of the line' _words I'd said a lifetime ago._

"He helped me find you," Steve continued as Bucky stared back at him with wide eyes full of fear and something he couldn't place. 

_running, running, running. they keep trying to find me - they want to lock me up. they call me a criminal, the worst kind of assassin and I don't remember, I don't remember._

"He agreed to help me find you. He knows how it feels to lose someone you lo-...care about. His partner Riley fell right out of the sky and all he could do was watch," Steve stared down at his hands as he spoke. _Take my hand! Bucky NO!_

_left arm is caught, trapped like an animal in a vise. not sure how I got here - STEVE._

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to follow me," Steve clenched his jaw and went to the window to look out.

The moon was bright in the sky as it lit up a mostly empty parking lot. The sky was glistening with stars and it was a view Steve could get used to. He heard a shuffling sound and turned around to find Bucky's bed empty. For a moment his heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't have left - Steve would've noticed. He spun around to wake Sam when he saw Bucky. He'd taken Steve's place at the small table and was attempting to regulate his breathing as Sam had taught him. 

"It wasn't your fault," he said quietly.

Steve took the chair across from him and wished he hadn't said a damn thing. The last thing Bucky needed was to comfort _him._

"You checked out for a minute there, thought I'd lost you [again]", Steve forced a smile and tried to steer the conversation into a safer area that didn't include painful flashbacks.

"I know what you're doing," Bucky replied. He wasn't sure how but Steve trying to hide his own feelings seemed familiar.

Steve sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I can see it - all of it," Bucky continued. He picked up a playing card and bent it at the side - anything to keep his hands busy. His fingers itched for the near constant weight of carrying around a firearm - muscle memory.

"Listen...you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," Steve's shoulders tensed up in contrast to the words he'd just spoken. Maybe it was best to talk about it, maybe they could move on.

"I remember...a lady in a red dress, baseball game with you, a key hidden under a stone," Bucky focused on the happier parts of his recollection.

Steve smiled and it reached all the way up to his eyes.

"Figures you'd remember Peggy," he said with a laugh.

"She wanted to dance with you," Bucky tried to hide the pain in his voice. Even all these years later it hurt - watching his best friend fall in love right in front of him as he slowly disappeared. He recalled feeling guilty afterward.

Steve's smile died on his lips as he straightened in his chair and frowned. "Yeah...yeah she did." He couldn't forget that day even if he wanted to. He remembered losing Bucky not too long after and how everything seemed to fade away in his absence - how the world had seemed darker somehow.

"Did you dance with her?," Bucky couldn't help but wonder. He needed to know though he couldn't put his finger on _why._

"Nah didn't get around to it," Steve said with a carelessness that he didn't quite feel. _Sorry Buck, I meant to I really did but I just couldn't. I nosedived a plane into solid ice and your face was the last thing I saw. She's still alive though and I used to visit her every two weeks until Sam and I went on the run._

Bucky nodded his head and pursed his lips into a tight line.

" 'think I'm gonna try sleeping again," he replied as he laid back down on the bed and pulled the covers tightly around himself.

" 'Night Buck," Steve said from across the room. He was met with silence on the other end.

 

**Digging my way out of the abyss to find you waiting**

"We're out of milk," Bucky mumbled mostly to himself as Steve was buried in his sketchbook. He'd taken up drawing once more as Bucky had made improvement.

"Sam we're out of milk," Steve called loudly without raising his head.

"I'm right here. I've been here the entire time, where've you been? Also it's your turn to do the shopping," Sam teased. He was sitting at a small kitchen table with shabby mismatched chairs and a crossword puzzle in front of him.

One year ago they'd turned on a hotel television set to find that the superhero registration bill had been veto'd and removed much to the relief of villains and heroes alike. Steve and Tony had came to blows about it before they'd made the decision to speed up their search for Bucky. It had been a race against time itself but in the end they'd succeeded. Still - words couldn't be taken back and Steve wasn't sure he could ever trust Tony again and certainly not with Bucky's life. The three of them had moved into a cramped three bedroom house in the sticks. Here they were far from prying eyes and reporters, far from possible triggers for Bucky.

He wasn't even close to 100% recovered and would never be the Bucky that Steve grew up with but he was doing his very best. Some nights around 3am he still woke up in a cold sweat to find Steve waiting at his bedroom door when he crawled out of whatever dark hole his head had sucked him into.

"I went last week," Steve replied as he shaded in dark eyelashes.

Bucky stretched out on the couch across from him and listened. The two of them could be entertaining at times.

"And get some bread while you're out too," Sam didn't miss a beat as he penciled in another word on his puzzle.

"I just bought bread three days ago," Steve groaned.

"Cheese, we're out of cheese too. Get the really good kind - provolone. Also what's underhanded or unscrupulous behavior, 11 letters?"

"Skulduggery," Bucky said with a yawn.

"Yeah that," Steve sat down his sketchbook and pencil, tucking it under a throw pillow as he put on his shoes. _Somebody_ had to do the shopping.

"Need anything from the store while I'm out, Buck?"

"Cereal would be nice, 'not picky," Bucky mumbled as he snuggled closer into the couch.

"I'll be back soon - try not to set the house on fire while I'm gone," Steve pocketed his keys and made his way out the door.

 

"He worries too much," Sam said as he took his crossword puzzle and took Steve's seat.

"He's a real mother hen," Bucky laughed. Of the three of them Steve was forever making his way around the house with a broom and literally putting out small grease fires.

"Looks just like you," Sam held up Steve's sketchbook for Bucky to see.

On the paper Bucky stared back with sleepy eyes, dark eyelashes covering nearly completely closed eyes, lips parted in a smile. He wore a black t-shirt with baggy sweats, brown hair pulled back with an elastic - a metal arm lazily slung over his forehead. _Happy._ He looked happy.

He cocked a sideways grin and took the sketchbook from Sam.

" 'used to draw me all the time when we were just two broke kids trying to make a living in Brooklyn. We didn't have the cash for a radio but we had books and Stevie's drawings, kept us entertained."

"He must care an awful lot about you," Sam looked at him over the puzzle he'd picked back up.

"I don't know about that," Bucky replied as he studied the lines and contours of the drawing. Maybe at one point but now? They'd been through a lot and there were miles to go yet. 

Sam raised an eyebrow and smirked. Steve Rogers broke rules for no one and the only reason he'd even ran when Sam met him was for exercise. He wasn't one to back down from a fight yet he had and when they'd lived as fugitives he'd never stopped to consider an alternative. For him Bucky was the end all. He looked at Bucky Barnes like he was the only person in the world. And once Steve had confided in him long before they'd found Bucky. He'd shared with him the agonizing pain of losing him and how he hadn't wanted to go on living after - how he'd flown a plane straight into icy waters and hadn't a shred of regret, told him about promising Peggy a date that they'd never have and how it still hurt that he'd left her like that, told him about the future he'd dreamed up that had always _always_ included Bucky. He'd called Bucky his best friend and in that moment Sam knew - _Steve was in love_.

"Oh man...you really don't know do you? You two are hopeless," Sam shook his head and laughed.

Bucky looked at him in confusion as he sat up and put the sketchbook on the table.

"I can't believe I'm still cleaning up your messes Rogers," Sam mumbled.

"Here's the thing. Steve Rogers doesn't back down from a fight and yet he was perfectly willing to let you kill him, when you fell off that train he nosedived a plane into ice-caps not even two days later, he sketches pictures of you when you're not even in the room, he dropped everything - his duties, his identity, _everything_ to find you and keep you safe and even before then when he couldn't drop them he sent me to hunt for you."

Bucky stared back slack jawed. _When you put it like that..._

"There it is! Now you get it," Sam shook his head and went back to his crossword puzzle. Steve owed him one for that.

 

"I bought three loaves of bread instead of one since they seem to keep disappearing and-," Steve rambled on as he stepped through the front door. What he didn't expect were strong arms to grab him by the waist. The bags tumbled to the floor as he stood gaping for a moment before he watched Bucky's eyes dart from his eyes and then down to his lips.

"Put your arms around me or somethin'," Bucky grinned at Steve's wide eyed surprise.

Steve grabbed Bucky by the hem of his shirt and pressed up against him. He was already breathing hard and Bucky had hardly touched him. _Relax, Rogers. Breathe._

"You've been gone a long long time," he whispered as he buried his face in Bucky's shoulder.

"Far too long," Bucky said as he traced circles on Steve's back.

"Got someone for you to see," Steve said.

"Who's that?"

"The lady in the red dress, Peggy Carter. I'm overdue for a visit and she knows all about you," Steve smiled. She would be proud of him and now that they were no longer in hiding they could make a special trip up to see her.

"Not right now though," Bucky held on tighter as if he were afraid she might take him away. 

Steve turned his head to the side and captured Bucky's lips with his own. Bucky moaned and deepened the kiss and _oh_ how he wanted this, how he'd longed for it nearly his entire life even when he couldn't remember who or what he was missing.

"I missed you.  _So_ much," he said against Steve's lips.

Sam coughed loudly from across the room to remind them that they weren't alone. Steve waved a hand at him without breaking the kiss.

"Alright I get it, I'm gone," Sam couldn't help but grin as he stepped outside.

Perhaps he'd go to the store after all...

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this comic book scene http://samrileystevebucky.tumblr.com/post/125531554732/steve-would-rather-risk-erasing-his-identity-after from Captain America: Man Out of Time. 
> 
> Title is from "Echo" by Jason Walker


End file.
